


Synchronicity

by veritascara



Series: Ad Astra [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Birth Control Failure, Canon Compliant, Episode: s04e06 Flight of the Defender, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Intimacy, Long-Term Relationship(s), Missing Scene, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritascara/pseuds/veritascara
Summary: Creating moments of profound intimacy in the midst of chaos is nothing new for Kanan and Hera. But Hera discovers afterwards that this particular moment may have unexpected consequences and makes a fateful choice.Set during "Flight of the Defender."





	Synchronicity

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has patiently waited for me to finish writing this fic! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> My eternal gratitude to [Anoray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anoray/pseuds/Anoray) and [uhura_ismylastname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhura_ismylastname/pseuds/uhura_ismylastname) for their beta expertise/listening to my griping as this story came together! <3

Expanded fuel depot. New defensive measures. More imperial troops than ever. Hera sighed and peered through her macrobinoculars again, searching the horizon for any important details she’d missed. “Specter Two to Specter Six, what’s your status?”

“No sign of the ship yet. How is your recon going?” Ezra’s voice warbled over the comm in her hand.

“The Empire has been fortifying their anti-aircraft defenses, and there are some new fuel tanks near the factory.”

Behind her, Kanan paced back and forth around the platform, Chopper following dutifully by his side. Even with his hands behind his back, Kanan’s whole being radiated tension. His pace was too measured, too restrained. “They must be getting ready to start full scale production,” he said, returning to her side.

“Maintain surveillance until nightfall, then return to base,” she instructed Ezra.

“Copy that, Phoenix Six out,” the comm chirped again.

Kanan didn’t turn to look at her, folding his arms instead across the railing in front of him. Hera shifted to stand next to him, turning her back to the railing to lean against it so she could type on her data pad. The job started out easy enough, but as she continued on, the words on the screen seemed to blur together, her focus flitting about almost anywhere but on the job at hand.

Well, that wasn’t really true. There was only one place her focus kept drifting off to, and that was to the man by her side. The thoroughly distracting man who stood entirely too far away, motionless but vibrating with pent up energy—his restraint wholly facade. The centimeters between them grew more charged with every passing moment.

Hera snuck a glance at his face, still directed toward the blackened landscape and grim, ash-laden clouds surrounding them. His mask made his expression unreadable, but his patient stillness spoke volumes. She made up her mind.

“Chopp.” The droid spun around from his meanderings about the platform and approached where she and Kanan stood. “I need you to go to the base of the tower and keep a lookout for patrols, so I can finish up these reports before we head back to base. Comm me immediately if you see any approaching.”

_Wup-wup-woo-ah?_

“No, I don’t think there will be any, but you know how it goes. Now get going!”

Chopper retorted with a string of angry binary, and a threatening wave of an arm toward Kanan.

“Oh, really? You feel unsafe going alone?” Hera rolled her eyes. “No, I need Kanan up here with me.”

 _Ooh-wah-weep-ooh-woo_.

Hera didn’t dignify that with a response. She knew her motivations were as transparent as glass to the droid, but for just right now, she didn’t care. Out of the corner of her eye, Hera saw Kanan’s lips quirk upward into a smirk, his cheeks tight with repressed laughter. She couldn’t have been happier to finally see the droid trundling off to do her bidding, expletive-laden muttering or no.

“Getting him out of the way is still harder than the kids,” Hera muttered under her breath.

Kanan choked on a laugh. Once he was certain Chopper was out of earshot, Kanan bent over and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t know we needed to do Alliance reports in private these days.”

Hera looked up at him with a bland expression plastered on her face; she could play this game if that was how he wanted to do it. “Oh, haven’t you heard? It’s the new protocol—A67: All official reports must be written in private quarters without droid interference due to risks of espionage.”

Kanan propped his elbow on the railing to support his head. “That sounds serious. Has this happened before in the Rebellion?”

Hera wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somehow the few centimeters between them had vanished, and the warmth of Kanan’s thigh burned next to her own. “Well, maybe not the Rebellion, but–” Hera’s expression turned wicked. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember the trip to Pamarthe, dear?”

“Don’t remind me.” Kanan grimaced.

Hera laughed at the long ago memory of a stormy night, the cockpit, the pilot’s chair, and one very confused and traumatized droid sporting an electroprod. “Come on.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the door of the tower, sparing a quick last glance at the horizon. The barren landscape was still empty for kilometers in every direction, not a sentient being or even loth-cat in sight.

It took both of them working together to pry the door open; the control panel had been shot out at some point in the recent past. Inside, the dreary daylight did little to illuminate the space, and while Kanan may not need it, Hera fumbled about for a couple minutes to find the light switch while Kanan held the door open behind her.

“Aha!” Hera flipped the switch. A single dim lamp in the center of the space lit up, casting more dark shadows around the room, but the light was warm and welcoming enough compared to the polluted skies outside, and her eyes adjusted quickly. “Well, I guess that will have to do. At least I can sort of see you.”

Kanan laughed a little, and stepped in through the door, letting it slam shut behind him. “There’s not much to look at.”

“I disagree with you there.” Hera winced, realizing too late how that must sound to him. “ _You_ are nice to look at.”

“Oh, I am, am I?” Kanan crossed his arms in front of him and shifted his weight to one hip. “So that’s why you picked me up on Gorse. I didn’t take you then for the type to go for eye candy.”

Hera rolled her eyes, and stepped forward a couple feet, into his personal space. “Oh, I definitely wasn’t looking for that. I just got lucky, I guess.”

“One of us sure did.” Out of habit, Kanan removed his blaster and lightsaber and held out his hands. Hera likewise pulled her own blaster out of its holster and placed it in his grip, and he set all three aside on a nearby ledge.

Then silently, Hera reached up and lifted one of his arms up over her head to her shoulders, and pushed the other down behind the small of her back. She rested her own hands lightly on his shoulders. But when she looked up, one of her least favorite sights met her eyes.

“That needs to go.” Gently, she lifted the mask from his face and set it aside, revealing the rest of his visage. Hera smiled and cradled his face between her hands, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. Kanan’s eyes remained shut, attesting to the tension that still simmered beneath the surface. The rest of his body also remained completely still, like a coiled spring waiting patiently to be let loose, everything about him on edge—pure potential energy ready to be unleashed at her command. A single motion would transform it to kinetic. Then he leaned his forward a fraction of a centimeter, his lips parted in anticipation.

She lifted up on her toes and kissed him.

It was not much of a kiss, just her lips gently meeting his. But it was the spark and Kanan was the tinder.

She pulled back to look at him and gave a warm smile. He grinned in response. Then his entire being surged into motion—arms pulling her flush against him and moving to roam her back, feet shifting to erase any remaining distance between them, and lips . . .

The feel of his lips sliding against hers, of his tongue as it traced the seam of her mouth, begging for entrance, set her alight. She opened without hesitation and welcomed him in, their tongues twisting eagerly around each other, tasting the essence of its mate. Kanan always tasted sweet to her—perhaps it was something of his humanness, or perhaps just the taste of that morning’s caf, still lingering on his tongue. He always did like it with an absurd amount of milk.

She adored him for it—not that she would ever tell him that.

Hera pressed herself still closer, reaching up to caress Kanan’s cheek, and he hummed low in his throat in response, rolling his hips forward to meet her center, the evidence of his arousal already becoming firm against her lower abdomen. She was consumed by a sudden urgency, a desperate need to have him, and quickly, before the demands and pressures of the outside world could interfere and steal her away from him again, as they always did.

Hastily, but without breaking their kiss, she grasped for Kanan’s belt and began fussing with the buckle. She had almost unlatched it, when Kanan reached down and stilled her hands. He broke away from their kiss and leaned his head back against the door, breathing heavily. “You’re in a hurry.”

“Chopper’s–” Hera tried to protest.

“Chopper learned his lesson well enough years ago; it’ll be fine.”

“I suppose so.” The old astromech probably had learned, multiple times over. At least, she certainly hoped the lesson had stuck by now. “But the others will be expecting us back.”

Kanan tilted his head and stroked his beard, pretending to consider her point. “Hmm, what was that you mentioned about nightfall? Oh yes, that we would rendezvous back at base then. But–” Kanan learned forward to capture her lips again with a quick kiss. “It’s only thirteen hundred hours right now.” And another. “That gives us four and a half hours–” And yet another. “Before we have to even have to head back.” Then he pulled away, and reached up, trailing a finger down from her lips to her neck to her breast as he spoke, “It’s been three standard weeks and I would really like to make this top secret Alliance report _thorough_. If you know what I mean.”

Oh, Hera knew. And her body responded with an affirming ache low in her belly. “Thorough is . . . good.”

Truly, it was what she wanted more than anything right now, and what she rarely ever allowed herself to have.

“Good.” Then Kanan kissed her again. No longer rushed, his hand came up to cup the back of her head, and she tilted her neck up to meet him. When his lips met hers, there was no more hurried frenzy. They melted against hers in a well choreographed dance, one they’d been rehearsing for the better part of ten years.

 _Ten years_.

How had so much time passed so quickly?

Ten years of kissing. Ten years of lovemaking. Ten years of slowly coming to know the other better than anyone else in the whole galaxy, whether she’d ever meant for it to happen or not. The galaxy might be her cause, but Kanan was her world. And no matter what things had tried to tear them apart, their orbits always returned back to synchrony, an inescapable gravitational pull binding them together.

Without breaking their leisurely kiss, she opened her eyes to look at his face. Somehow sensing her action, Kanan’s eyes fluttered open as well, and the intensity she found there made her breath catch, forcing her to pull away.

It was often hard to believe that he couldn’t see—the way his gaze caught and held hers. But this was light years beyond even that. Kanan’s eyes bore into hers, and his whole face radiated naked adoration and longing, as if she alone were the vibrant sun illuminating his perpetual darkness. She was entranced, powerless to look away from the sight. But suddenly, Hera felt Kanan’s fingers on her chin, his thumb tracing her lower lip, and her eyes slammed shut. The breath she’d hardly realized she’d been holding escaped her lips in a light moan as he circled the borders of her mouth a few moments more. Then he lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers again.

Quickly, their kiss deepened and became more heated, the air between them charged with a new electricity. In one fluid motion, Kanan spun them around, reversing their positions so that she was now pinned to the door, and then broke away from her mouth to begin trailing kisses down her neck. Hera moaned at the sensation and lifted her chin to allow him better access, frustrated when his lips reached her collar and could go no lower.

Kanan too, grumbled in annoyance. “This is where you are definitely overdressed.”

“Definitely.”

“I can fix that,” he remarked.

Hera chuckled. “You’d better get on that, then.”

“Oh, had I?”

“Are you objecting?”

“Not at all.” As if to prove his point, his hands found her waist, where he loosened her belt and and began unsnapping her orange flight suit from her vest. He rolled it down to her hips, and then slid her leather vest above her breasts. Hera stretched her arms upward and smiled as she felt it slide over her head. Somehow, her goggles ended up entangled with it and both fell to the floor together in a heap. Caught by surprise, she spared a quick glance towards them.

“They’re fine,” Kanan said. “I wouldn’t let them break.”

Hera shook her head and kissed him again. “I don’t think the Force was meant to be used like that.”

“No. It was definitely meant for that.” Kanan waved a hand and his belt buckle unlatched spontaneously.

“Show off.” Not that Hera could complain about this development. She happily unthreaded the belt from his pants and untucked his green tunic. Taking the hint without hesitation, Kanan yanked it over his head and tossed it somewhere across the room, where it sank into the shadows and disappeared from view. As they continued kissing, Hera removed her own gloves and tossed them aside as well, eager to feel him unimpeded. She pressed a hand to his chest, but even his undershirt now felt like too much distance between them, and she pushed it up as far as she could.

Kanan groaned at the sudden sensation of skin on skin as she trailed her fingers across his chest, raking them through the fine smattering of hair that lay hidden there, and immediately reciprocated by yanking her own shirt up. Wordlessly, both paused to remove the offending garments. Hera’s conscious thoughts nearly came to an abrupt halt as Kanan palmed a breast through her undershirt, while his thumb played with the neckline, and his mouth assailed her neck again, trailing kisses down towards her chest. Hera gripped his head, guiding him instinctively to where she wanted him.

“We are definitely not even yet,” he muttered against her clavicle as he reached fabric yet again.

Hera laughed. “What are you going to do about that?”

“This.”

Hera shrieked in surprise when Kanan’s hands found her hips and lifted her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs and arms around him as he carried her a few feet to deposit her on the nearby bunk, situating himself standing squarely between her thighs.

Their relative heights were now reversed, and Hera found herself looking slightly down at Kanan, at eyes the color of starlight, heavy-lidded and staring up at her with a look of purest adoration and love and want. She touched her nose to his and cupped his face in her hands.

 _I love you too._ The words crossed her mind, unbidden, in response to his gaze. For the briefest moment, she considered nearly setting them free. But they stuck in her throat. How could she say for the first time words she should have said years and years ago? And how could she suddenly acknowledge everything they held dear and stood to lose? To speak it felt like inviting its destruction.

She resolved to show him instead—as she always did, and as she knew she could.

Gently, her fingers traced the outlines of his face, danced across his cheeks, circled his eyes, skittered quickly across his scar, before moving outwards. She traced the shell of Kanan’s ear with her fingers then grinned wickedly and bent forward to catch an earlobe in her mouth. Kanan groaned loudly in response and his hips jerked forward to press into hers. She knew she’d caught him by surprise.

But in immediate retaliation, his hands found her lekku, first with a feather light touch, then he applied firmer strokes from her head to their ends over and over until Hera lost herself to the sensation, gasping for breath and breaking their kiss. Her need grew more with each passing moment, and she blindly groped at his pants to push them down off this hips. Kanan chuckled at her impatience and removed them, along with his boots, then Hera lifted her hips for him to do the same with her own.

Of course, the effect wasn’t quite the same.

“You wear too many layers,” Kanan grumbled when his hands met the leggings she always wore underneath, even though he was already down to his basics.

“It’s cold in space!” Hera protested.

“We’re not in space, and it’s still too many. This would have been a lot easier yesterday,” he grumbled.

Hera smiled at the memory of how he’d practically drooled when she’d first come out of the fresher in the rose-colored tank top, her arms uncharacteristically bare. “Mmm, it would have. But at least we’re close to that now,” she teased.

“Not close enough.”

“Fine.” Without hesitation, Hera yanked off her undershirt, followed in rapid succession by her leggings and socks. She spared a quick thought wondering when and where her own boots had disappeared—she didn’t remember pulling them off. Truthfully, she didn’t care. All that mattered was that they were now both nearly naked.

“There, now we’re even,” she proclaimed.

Kanan stepped back a few centimeters, and despite his eyes never leaving her face, she could tell he was drinking in her form with every other sense he possessed. He looked like a hungry wolf ready to pounce on his next meal. It must have taken every ounce of his energy not to lay her back then and there, but he’d said ‘thorough,’ and she could tell he meant it. She shivered, unable to distinguish whether from the chilly air against her bare skin or the prospect of his next move.

Reverently, he unbuttoned her cap and slid the small garment down her lekku, leaving her head bare. Then suddenly his hands were everywhere. They roamed her lekku; they traced her sides, her back, her stomach; they drew circles around her breasts. His mouth returned to her neck, trailing kisses lower and lower until they reached her breast, and Hera’s stomach coiled in anticipation, only to groan in frustration when he pulled away, paused for a moment, then continued indulging in his hands’ downward exploration of her body. When his hands reached her hips, his fingers hooked her underwear and she lifted up so he could drag them down as well, leaving her completely naked to his gaze. When they were off, his fingers slowly traced their way back up her legs, his touch burning first her calves, and then searing the inside of her thighs, as it came closer and closer to where she longed for him to be.

The two things happened at once and Hera lost all focus on the world around her: Kanan’s mouth enveloped her left breast, and his fingers met her center. She arched into him helplessly as his tongue laved her nipple, raising to a stiff peak, then switched to lavish the same attention on its twin. Then his thumb found her clit and fingers began tracing tiny teasing dips between her folds, spreading the gathering moisture all around. She gripped his head with her hands and ran her fingers through his hair, the hair band falling away somewhere in the shadows. Kanan moaned at the sensation of her fingers scratching his scalp, and his motions intensified, one finger dipping inside of her, centimeter by centimeter, finding that deep place which he knew infallibly brought her to the pinnacle, while his thumb continued its steady motions.

Rapidly, she felt the sensations building higher and higher, quickly racing to that point where she knew she’d be overcome. It took gathering all her wits to find her own revenge, and she raked her fingernails down his stomach, following the trail of rough hair that grew there lower until she reached his basics. His breathing stuttered as her hand plunged inward without hesitation, and he bucked involuntarily into her hand, his cock hard and straining against her palm. With practiced finesse, she ran her fingers firmly along its sides over and over, the silky soft skin gliding against them, broken only by the engorged vessels meandering across its surface.

“H-Hera,” Kanan managed to stutter out, releasing her breast. “You have to stop. I won’t last if you keep that up.”

“I could say the same to you,” Hera gasped, as a forward motion of his finger nearly threatened to push her over the edge. But she withdrew her hand and slid his underwear down his hips, letting them fall to his feet. “I want you. Inside. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” Kanan said, eagerly backing up to yank his remaining clothing off his ankles. Hera hopped down and gave him a playful shove towards the bunk. He flopped down onto it, coughing when an unexpected cloud of dust rose from the thin mattress.

Hera laughed. “Sorry, love. This was definitely not the ideal location for this.”

“Anywhere I can have this with you is ideal,” he replied, and Hera’s heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. Wordlessly, Kanan took her hand and guided her to climb atop him. Both of them sighed at the sensation of their skin meeting, at the burning heat of their cores aligning, at the feeling of coming home that pervaded whenever their bodies met unhindered.

Hera spared a quick glance overhead.

“You’re good,” Kanan said.

“Just checking. We’ve definitely been in tighter spots.”

“Oh, I remember.”

Confident now, Hera knelt over Kanan, and let her center meet his, her breath stuttering as he thrust upward involuntarily, seeking connection. But then she pulled away and broke their contact again.

“Hera . . .” Kanan’s voice was strained.

“Just a moment.” Hera shifted her knees. She’d been too close to the edge of the narrow bunk for comfort. Then she lowered herself again, and Kanan groaned as she ground her hips against him. “I thought we were going for thorough,” she said.

“All bets are off at this point.”

“Hmm.” Hera swiveled her hips again, nudging his length closer and closer to her entrance. Her circles became smaller and more purposeful, and Kanan gripped her hips with his hands to guide her until they found their mutual goal. In unison they gasped as she shifted downward and he slid inside, stretching and filling her, centimeter by centimeter until he was seated fully within her. For a few moments they both remained still, reveling in the sensation of being united. Kanan had been right, it had been a while. And to be joined again with him was exquisite, both a blissful joy, like watching the sunset on Atollon when there was no work to be done, but also an immense relief, like finding a friendly port for her ship within a raging storm.

To be one with Kanan was to create home, wherever in the galaxy they might be. He was her home and she was his.

 _One soul in two bodies; one body with two souls_.

Slowly at first, they began to move together. Hera moved her hips in a tight orbit, lifting up and pressing down gently with a circular motion. He let her set their pace, pressing upward in time with her motions. Gradually, they become bolder and more decisive, and he responded intuitively, his thrusts deeper and stronger. Hera opened her eyes to see him. Kanan’s head was thrown back and his eyes closed, a look of intense concentration on his face as he panted. He was holding himself back. She knew how to change that.

Pulling up again, Hera dropped down rapidly and he slammed home, deeper than before. Kanan moaned, and she repeated the motion, clenching her muscles around him. His cock surged inside her, pounding into her womb and sending a shockwave of discomfort up her spine.

“Oof.” She grimaced with the sensation, but felt rewarded for her efforts when Kanan moaned again, louder this time and less contained. Every muscle in his chest was taut, and the blood vessels in his neck bulged. She could hardly imagine a sight more erotic.

“You all right?” Kanan ground out.

“Yeah,” Hera said, “just a little deep.” She leaned forward minutely, shifting her hips for a better angle, and gasped as Kanan unexpectedly grasped a lek and took it in his mouth. He smirked up at her as he swirled his tongue around the tip, simultaneously trailing the fingers of his other hand down her side, then to where they were joined, where his thumb began tracing practiced circles around her clit. Spots gathered at the edges of Hera’s vision as she panted helplessly at the onslaught of sensation from within and without. She tried to force herself to slow her breathing to regain any semblance of control.

Truly, it was too late for that.

Hera batted Kanan’s hand away and stretched her legs back, flattening herself onto him in desperation to feel him to the fullest. She moaned as his skin blazed against hers, their chests and stomachs and legs coming into full contact, every possible square centimeter now touching. Kanan captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, all finesse lost in their now frenetic movements, as they chased a high they had only ever found in each other. His thrusts likewise became erratic, and Hera rode their waves, answering with her own as she felt the tide rising to crash over them.

“Let me . . . hear you,” Kanan sputtered.

“What?” Hera replied, hardly comprehending his words.

“We’re alone,” he ground out. “We can let go.”

“Oh.” She’d hardly realized she was holding back. Living in close quarters for so long had hammered the need for relative quiet into their heads until it was thoroughly ingrained into their mutual psyche. The chance to make love completely unhindered was a rare luxury.

 _But here, we can_.

And as the pressure within her built to a crescendo, Hera did just that, letting her cries ring out, growing higher in pitch and volume with each thrust of their bodies. Kanan’s groans became low and guttural, like something primal, wild had been unleashed within him. The pace of their movements suddenly shifted. Once frantic, they now worked together with purpose; Kanan surged deep into her core with long strokes, and Hera tensed around him, pressing her hips forward in tight circles, driving her clit against his frame over and over.

Wordless but by no means silent, they reached the pinnacle, their cries reverberating against the empty metal walls of the tower. Hera felt her body go rigid and her inner muscles clench around him, as Kanan threw his head back and shouted incoherently, emptying himself inside her.

Stars went supernova behind her eyes, whole galaxies of them colliding and dying just to be reborn anew in the wake of their conjunction. And time and space ceased to flow around her; what must have been milliseconds stretched out into millennia—all of eternity contained within an infinitesimal moment. Destruction and creation. Order and chaos. Death and rebirth. They were and they were not.

 _Ji eoh ch'sei_.

Gradually, their rhythm slowed, the cooling embers of their blaze melting away into a gentle flicker, a warm glow. A sense of utter peace and relaxation swept over Hera, and she collapsed onto Kanan’s chest, not sure how she’d ever find the energy to move again in her pleasure-wrought haze. With what little stamina she had, she traced Kanan’s shoulder with a finger. The green of her hand against the coppery tone of his skin and the dark brown of his unbound hair melded together in her mind and reminded her more than a little of Ryloth, and all the times she’d flown toward its sunward face. Even in that simple, silly way, together they made home.

_Force, she loved him._

“I love you,” Kanan whispered against her lek.

Hera froze. “Are you reading my mind?” she ventured after a moment.

“I don’t have to read your mind to know what you’re thinking.”

 _. . . but not saying_ , Hera knew went unspoken at the end of that sentence. But she couldn’t let herself think any more on that right now.

Hera pushed herself up with her arms and began scanning the room for her clothes, responsibilities calling to her yet again, old insecurities urging her to flee. But Kanan laid his hand on her shoulder, and she looked down to find his milky eyes searching hers, seeing through her in that way they always did.

“Stay,” he said.

Hera felt torn for a second between the need to be in motion and the desire to stay in the moment with him. She did that so rarely, and loath though she was to admit it, it was what she truly wanted.

For once, she let the latter win. Nodding in response, she relaxed back down onto his chest, tucked her head against his neck, and let herself revel in the feeling of her breasts pressed to his chest, sweat now cooling their overheated skin, of his arms, solid and enduring, enveloping her, of their slowing heartbeats and the push and pull of their breathing ebbing back and forth in synchronous waves, of his cock still deep within her and softening gradually.

Kanan pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she let herself go, surrendering to the moment. It felt like a perverse extravagance to allow every muscle in her body to go limp, to bathe wholly in the afterglow of their lovemaking, to pretend for a moment that they were just themselves—a man and a woman alone in the universe with no obligations save the satiation of the other, their other half, the one being in the universe who made them feel complete and whole amidst a galaxy in chaos.

 _One soul in two bodies; one body with two souls_.

To be joined to Kanan was wholeness, to live life with him was healing, as much for her as it had been for him, something she hardly ever stopped moving long enough to accept yet knew somewhere deep down was wholly true.

It had always been a lie that she could let him go if she had to.

Her lekku twined together of their own accord, and Kanan’s arms tightened around her even more. He shifted his head to press it against her own.

Then Kanan chuckled and the moment shattered.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at him. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking, Ezra used to sleep in this bunk.”

The horror over that thought was almost too much. Hera shot up onto her arms in an instant. “Kanan Jarrus, if you tell Ezra that we–”

“Me? Tell Ezra? Never.” He laughed again, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Relax. The poor boy probably hasn’t even come to terms with how his own parents made him. This he definitely doesn’t need to know.”

Hera shook her head and laughed. “You’re probably right about that.”

“Oh, I’m right about something for once, am I?”

“Don’t get too used to it.” Hera bent forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then rose off of him, feeling the loss as his length slipped out of her. She hopped down and quickly began the hunt for her clothing, her sweaty skin chilly in the unheated air of the tower. Kanan sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, watching, if you could call it that, as she began dressing.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

Kanan Jarrus, ever the romantic. Hera remembered the truth of her comments the night before and smiled. Blind eyes or no, he _could_ see her, better than she could see herself, but she couldn’t help teasing him in reply. “I’m bent over in my basics searching for a lost sock.”

“It’s a great view,” he countered.

Hera laughed out loud. “You would say that.”

“Here.” He reached down and tossed her errant sock towards her.

“Thanks. What would I do without you?”

“Get blisters, clearly.”

“Clearly.”

Hera laughed again; she loved their familiar banter, the warmth of it settling around her shoulders like a cozy blanket. She continued dressing—socks, undershirt, head cap, leggings—it was only when she pulled her gray pilot’s shirt over her head that she paused. She was struck by a sudden, inexplicable sense that _something_ was missing. Something important. But she rifled through the pile of items she had gathered next to her and found everything else she needed. Vest, flight suit, boots, gloves, holster, blaster—it was all there. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Kanan and found him quietly dressing likewise, nothing amiss.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing her confusion.

“It’s nothing.” She shrugged. “I feel like I’m forgetting something, but everything is here.”

He glanced at her pile of clothing and gave her a curious look.

“I’m sure I’ll figure it out later.” Pushing her arms through the sleeves of her shirt, Hera moved on.

* * *

Hours later Hera lay awake in their darkened tent. Sleep eluded her. Anxiety over Ezra and Sabine’s unknown whereabouts and the dangers they were facing dragged her back to consciousness each time she thought she might finally drift off. Every noise in the distance seemed to signal another possible Imperial threat against their tiny encampment.

Kanan, however, slept soundly behind her, with his arm slung over her hip and his slow, steady breathing gently pressing against her spine. She shifted onto her back to watch him in the darkness. The moons were now high overhead, and their light filtered softly through the fabric, illuminating everything with a gentle glow. His face bore the relaxation and joy of utter peace.

Not for the first time, she envied him the assurance that his connection to the Force afforded. What must it be like to not only know in her mind that everything around her existed, but to be able to feel the galaxy pulsing around her as a living thing as he did? To feel the certainty of its machinations? To rest in the peace that came from knowing from within the core of her being that it worked its own will to maintain the balance of the universe? To actively see it protecting and guiding those she cared about?

If only she could have such faith.

He could see and feel that every moment of his life. It must be beautiful.

Just as he was.

She hadn’t brought herself to tell him earlier, but it was as true as the sun rising each morning.

Hera reached her arm up and lifted a strand of hair out of his face to tuck it behind his ear. In his sleep he smiled at the touch of her fingers grazing his skin.

But that was when she noticed it.

Or rather the absence of it. What she’d missed seeing earlier. What had been missing.

Where the diode of her contraceptive implant usually pulsed a warm green under the skin of her upper arm, she now saw nothing but darkness. She ran her fingers over the spot, feeling for the small square and finding it exactly where it had always been. She poked at every corner of it. Still lifeless.

The bottom dropped out of her heart, replaced rapidly by all consuming panic.

She’d relied on it for so many years now. How long ago had it stopped working? And how had she not noticed? And now they were fixed for the duration on a planet where they were wanted criminals and medical care could only be accessed through the Empire, the Rebellion’s clinic wholly inaccessible. How could she get a back up?

Kanan shifted in his sleep and drew his arms tight around her, responding unconsciously to her rising anxiety. Kriff. Of course he would feel her distress, even in his sleep. “Kisss uh be fie,” he mumbled.

Hera swallowed hard and forced herself to breathe slow, steady breaths. “What was that?” she asked.

Kanan was silent for a moment, then he shifted and spoke again, this time more clearly. “Kids’ll be fine.”

 _Kids will be fine_. What was he talking about? Did he know? No, of course not. He thought she was still anxious about Ezra and Sabine—which she was, to a degree. That was a relief. That she could work with. If he knew the true source of her anxiety . . .

No, she couldn’t bring herself to think or talk about that with him right now, not when there was so much at stake.

 _And really_ , she told herself, the rational side of her brain awakening, _there isn’t anything to think about right now_. It had been years, but this wasn’t the first time they’d had a mishap. It probably wouldn’t be the last. And nothing had ever come of the others. But what if something did?

And what if somewhere deep down in some perverse and irresponsible corner of her heart, she actually wanted it to?

She sucked in a sharp breath at that thought.

Kanan lifted his head to look at her, now fully awake. “Hera, are you all right?”

“Yeah, just having trouble sleeping.” The half-lie pricked at her conscience, but she didn’t know how to broach the truth.

“Ezra and Sabine are on their way. We’ll see them in the morning.” He ran his hand down her arm and met her eyes. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim moonlight. “Would you like me to help you?”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah. How do you think I got to sleep?” He chuckled lightly.

Hera chewed on her lip and pondered his offer for a moment. She’d already been unable to sleep due to her anxiety over the kids, but this new revelation would almost certainly prevent her from sleeping from the rest of the night, despite being something completely unworthy of stressing over. They could cross that bridge if they ever came to it. Together.

“Yeah, okay. It’s going to be a rough day tomorrow if I can’t get some sleep,” she admitted.

Kanan placed a hand on her shoulder, and Hera shifted onto her side to face him. She allowed herself a moment to look into his eyes, to trace the shape of the red scar across them. Then she pulled her knees up towards her stomach, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Think of a place and time when you were at peace. Bring it to the forefront of your mind.” One of Kanan’s hands came to rest on the side of her head, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Then allow yourself to sink into that memory, not just as a memory, but as it existed in reality. Be present in it. Nothing else exists around you.” Kanan’s other hand was now on her chest, warm and intimate and so, so comforting. “Be in that place.”

Hera thought of the moons of Rion, of hands knit together as they walked through groves of glowing nycantis blooms in the middle of the night. Hera thought of months on end waking in the same bunk, their arms and legs tangled up in the small space, their bodies sated and at ease. Hera thought of eyes blue-green like a tropical sea, the way their depths gazed into hers, knowing her inner being the way no one else in the galaxy ever could.

A sensation of warmth drifted over her. Her heart and breathing slowed in her chest. Her body was weightless, but her eyelids were heavy as lead—not that she wanted to open them. She felt protected, cocooned, insulated from anything beyond the small space she and Kanan shared. Gradually, Hera let herself sink into the sensations. All the pent up stress fell off her shoulders. She felt Kanan release a deep breath beside her, his own shoulders relaxing. His forehead inched forward to rest against hers.

Hera thought of the way they lay together that morning, just the two of them joined as one despite the raging turmoil of the outside world.

But what if that had . . .

For a single second, her anxieties threatened to return.

No. She wouldn’t think about it anymore. Whatever happened, she had Kanan, and the Force would be with them.

Hera slept.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is hopefully to be the first in a series of stories centered around Hera’s pregnancy and Jacen’s birth. Stay tuned for more forthcoming!


End file.
